Ever notice how some places are better suited than others for creative thinking? For me, they’re not the places you’d expect. I know this because I’ve been wrestling with the last few chapters of my newest manuscript, Healing Eden, for the last week and the hidey-holes I’d expected to generate good ideas didn’t work so well.
Naturally, I started out in my office since that’s where my flagrant twenty-seven inch iMac is situated. You’d think it would be a great place for ideolizing. It’s clean and tidy…even has a cozy, wood burning fireplace right beside my desk. Perfect setting for a rush of inspiration, right?
From there I popped over to the kitchen table. I stared out over the flowerbeds (which need weeding). I soaked up the trees just starting to bloom (surrounded by leaves that need raking). Still…
Yeah, neither of those spots worked for me. In fact, those places just presented more things I needed to add to my already ridiculously long to-do list. (See aforementioned leaves and weeds—which are sprouting from a paper-thin layer of faded mulch that also needs to be addressed.)
Guess where the magic happened?
#1 – The shower.
I have no idea why I can think like I do here. Some of my best ideas have come with a head lathered in Herbal Essences.
Maybe the tile’s embedded with supersonic crystals that amplify my creative brain. Maybe the water has some psychological, soothing impact on the hamster in my head. Or maybe it’s like a liquid force field that blocks reality from penetrating my skin. (Hey, I write paranormal romance. In my world, that kind of stuff can happen.)
#2: Long drives with the music maxed out.
Between the blaring tunes and the hypnotic effect of driving, reality stayed at bay long enough for my creativeness to come out and play. (And, now that you know I’m out driving around in this condition, you should probably read this.)
#3: Kicked back in bed after sunset, windows open where I can stare out at the lights of Tulsa.
The daytime view does nothing for me. Nightime? It rocks my muse. Maybe the twinkling lights do a hypnotic number on me. Maybe I was a vampire in another life.
Who the heck knows? Who the heck cares? All that matters is my special thinking spots are there when I need them.
What about you? Do you find yourself more inspired in odd locations? Or are you the type who can fork out creative solutions while driving the Indy 500 with one arm tied behind your back? (And if you are, I’m jealous. So try not to rub it in.)
6 Comments
Suzanne Vince
April 18, 2013 at 11:00 amI get mine in the car, too. Yes, they come even though I drive a Prius and listen to the SPA channel on satellite radio 🙂 I also get them at Starbucks.
Rhenna
April 18, 2013 at 11:45 amLOVE Satellite radio. Hate it when my car’s in the shop and have to listen to commercials. (I’m pathetic. :))
Gretchen Wing
April 18, 2013 at 2:35 pmMy bicycle! Don’t know how “odd” that is, but–yeah. Turns out I need to be moving, and outdoors, for my Muse to visit me.
Rhenna
April 18, 2013 at 4:54 pmI think that’s awesome! If it were me on a bike, I’d only be able to concentrate on not killing myself. 🙂
T.D. Hart
April 20, 2013 at 6:38 pmWhen I’m stuck on a story, looking at water helps. So does a trail run. When neither are available, I escape to my barn office where I use long, uninterrupted stretches of time to crawl inside my characters’ head(s), imagine what they’re up against, and ask, “What happens next?”
To that end we’ve established a family rule. Don’t bother Mom when she’s in the barn unless you or your siblings are: 1) On fire or 2) Bleeding too fast to count the drops.
Cheers…and Happy Writing!
-T
Rhenna
April 21, 2013 at 7:32 amLove your barn. My office is close enough to the “action” that my kids just barge right in. Emergency isn’t a word I’ve managed to convey adequately…but I keep trying.